


Never Alone

by hockeylass



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Injury, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Endgame, Whump, alternative ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 15:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20509355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hockeylass/pseuds/hockeylass
Summary: Even after the blip brings everyone back, New York is broken. While he’s trying to put it back together, Peter gets a reminder of what he’s lost.





	Never Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s a lengthy one-shot for you :) 
> 
> I wrote this before FFH came out, and have been sitting on it ever since lol

New York was a different place these days. It looked the same, smelled the same, sounded the same, but it was clouded in a sense of sadness it just couldn’t seem to shake.

Peter Parker had tried so hard to swing above it, to push past his own personal grief and sense of displacement, but life was heavier now and his overall mood was coloured grey just like the Manhattan skyline.

Despite his inner turmoil, and the stresses of getting back into some semblance of normal life, Peter was determined to carry on and use his powers for good. His experiences on Titan and at the compound taught him how high the stakes were, that his own adage that “when you can do the things I can, but you don’t, and the bad things happen, they happen because of you” - well, they had never been more true.

Now, after helping to save the universe, he’s back to helping the little guy. And to be brutally honest, it’s a refreshing change. He helps protect shopkeepers from armed robbers, keeps an eye out for vulnerable women on their way home from a night out, helps old ladies cross the road. In return he gets gratitude, the occasional churro or hot dog - great for a constantly hungry stomach - but most importantly of all he gets smiles. Just half smiles at best, but they are smiles all the same. 

Tonight though, tonight was an angry night. Riots had broken out up near Harlem, the latest in a long line of public disturbances across the city, in the poorest spots. Food shortages and homelessness had taken grip in the places the rich didn’t care about, even in Queens, so Peter totally understood their unhappiness, even though it wasn’t right to resort to violence. He tried hard to break things up but there’s only so much one web-slinger can do. So, he chose instead to make sure the elderly and young were shielded from it - getting them to safety and performing some tricks for the kids. They’d been through enough.

“Peter, I’m getting reports of multiple acts of looting at the scene,” Karen said as Peter swung towards the action. “Do you want details?”

Peter sighed. He’d be busy tonight. “Sure thing.”

First on the list of ten different shops being raided was a small food store, run by an old Indian-American couple who frankly, looked terrified. Peter managed to web up the assailants and get the couple to safety ready for when the police reached them - although they were busy trying to appease the baying crowds on the street.

The next two stores were fairly straightforward as well, and Peter felt confident he could get the looting under control within the hour, and then get back to what he really wanted to do which was make sure the children of the area were safe from any harm.

“Peter the jewellery store three blocks away is being robbed -“ 

“On it Karen!”

Peter swung there as fast he could and launched himself through the broken shop front window and into the black.

The minute his feet touched the ground his senses went haywire, anticipating the danger ahead. In the darkness he felt the presence of two more heartbeats, one frantic on his right and the other, weirdly calm, on his left. Firing webs into the direction of the heartbeats he sensed, he hoped it would be enough to stall the robbery. 

“I knew this would happen, I knew he’d catch us - I’m gonna go back to jail!!!” Whimpered the robber with the frantic heartbeat. “I can’t move! The police will be here...oh shit, oh shit!!”

Peter remained silent, and climbed up the wall onto the ceiling, hoping stealth would give him the upper hand. He still couldn’t see much from the depths of the store but he could detect the heartbeats and their movement. 

And as far as he could tell, both heartbeats were stuck to the shop walls.

“It’ll be fine,” said the calmer man. “He missed me.”

Shit.

And as he said “I won’t miss him”, Peter felt a cold, sharp pain penetrate his side, taking his breath away and making him lose grip on the ceiling. He landed painfully on his back, the large Army-issue knife thrown at him still sticking in under his ribcage. 

His limited vision only seemed to get darker and every breath seemed to get harder, wheezing and whistling. 

The man crouched next to him. “That’ll teach you, you little shit,” he said, as he pulled the knife from Peter, the kid screaming in agony. “Good luck with that,” the man said as he lit a torch into Spider-man’s eyes making him cry out once again. Despite the pain, Peter could see how the man had managed to injure him - night vision goggles. Of course, he thought, as he continued to fight for breath.

He heard the man go and free his accomplice from the webbing before running off, leaving Peter alone. 

“Peter you need medical attention urgently, would you like me to call Mr Stark?”

Mr Stark? Oh.

Peter could’ve cried. It was the first time since the battle that he’d needed medical help, and his suit hadn’t been upgraded for obvious reasons. There was no one to help him now. All he had was pain and the prospect of a slow death.

Before he could even try to respond, his breathing becoming more and more laboured, the cold setting in, the blood pooling at his side, Karen made the call anyway.

It rang, and rang, and rang.

And then;

“Peter? What’s going on?”

Surely Peter was hallucinating. Tony Stark’s phone was picked up. 

“M...St’k...I….I…” he managed to say between loud wheezing, his punctured lung practically collapsed.

“Where are you?”

“Mmmmhhhfffff.” Words weren’t possible, no matter how much he tried.

“Sir, he’s in Dennis Jewellers in Harlem. Come quickly, he is in need of urgent medical attention” Karen interjected.

With that, the line went dead, and Peter lost consciousness.

He didn’t see the golden sparks of a portal appear beside him, he didn’t feel the rich fabric of a red cloak envelope him and carry him through, he didn’t hear the urgent cry of a Bleecker Street Magician to prep an operating theatre, or see the concern on his face as he laid eyes on the boy.

He felt nothing. 

…………

Christine Palmer was 15 minutes from the end of a long shift, the day jam-packed with people calling into the ER with all kinds of ailments, although most people presented with the same thing these days, disorientation and high nausea. Scientists had dubbed it Decimation Syndrome, a common ailment striking those who had been snapped into oblivion and bought back again. Big Pharma companies had quickly formulated a drug but again, only the rich seemed to be able to access it. So, Metro General was packed daily with regular people presenting symptoms, and an entire two floors of the hospital were set aside for care.  
She was preparing the next batch of patients to be moved from the ER to the ward when she heard it.

“Christine!.... Christine!”

Oh shit, what now. 

She’d not really heard much from her former favourite neurosurgeon since the second Snap, when he’d come back after the final battle to seek her out. She’d aged five years, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was that she was OK. They sat for hours talking about what had happened in the interim, about what it was like to be turned to dust, what it was like to have stayed. He poured his heart out to her about the battle on Titan, his trip into the future, the battle at the compound. 

She watched the exhaustion of using so much magic take its toll, the fever, the vomiting, the aching and migraine, before he made an excuse to leave, practically falling through a portal and into the arms of Wong. That was five months ago, and she’d not seen him since.

“Christine! Please!” the voice grew louder, bringing her back into the room. She turned her head and watched as Strange ran towards her with a prone figure on a bed. A figure dressed in red and blue….she raised her hand to her mouth in shock. Spider-Man?

“Shit what happened,” she said running towards the man. “Stabbing, he’s punctured a lung, and is in hypovolemic shock.”

“Ok let’s get a room ready,” she said, slamming the trauma button on her lanyard and setting off the alarm. Within seconds a team of experts were swarming round the superhero. 

“How do we get this off?” Christine asked, scissors primed.

“Madam, please press the spider insignia on the chest,” a female voice interjected.

“Who was that?”

“Peter’s AI,” Strange said. “I believe he calls her Karen. She’s actually pretty helpful. Called Stark when he was stabbed.”

“But Stark’s dead, Stephen.”

“I know, I had his number re-routed to me should anything happen.I knew how much Tony cared about the boy. Given… everything… I didn’t want to let him down. Even if he was an egotistical jerk.”

Christine looked at Stephen with sad eyes as she inserted an IV into Peter’s arm. “You’re at risk of becoming a good man, Strange.”

He huffed. 

There wasn’t much Stephen could do from here on out, except monitor the team as they worked around Peter with all the urgency he knew he needed. By the time they’d stabilised him and closed the wound, the OR looked like a murder scene, blood everywhere from the floor to the trolleys and monitors, discarded and soaked swabs littered around. Stephen had been a pro at the clinical approach. His OR was always one of order, of cleanliness, of precision. This one was one of chaos.

“Stephen?” Christine said softly. “Stephen? We can leave now.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, snapped out of his haze. “How is he?”

“He’ll live. He lost a lot of blood but it missed organs, and that saved him really. He’ll be out of action for a while though. We’ll keep it under wraps until he’s ready to go home, wherever that is?.”

“As soon as he’s ready to be moved, we should relocate him to the Sanctum, I can take care of him from there.” 

“What about the Avengers?”

“They’re homeless, Christine. The compound is no more, the tower was sold,” he says solemnly. “I will put the call out though, they’ll want to see him given the opportunity. They all care about the kid, especially after… well, you know.”

“Ok. Well first thing’s first, what’s his name? Does he have any family, do you know?”

“His name is Peter Parker. Told me on Titan when I woke him up. For a superhero who wears a mask to hide his identity, he has no idea how to keep his name to himself,” he chuckled lightly. “As for family, I honestly don’t know. I guess we’ll have to wait until he wakes up.”

Christine and Stephen walked alongside Peter’s bed as it was rolled by the medical team up to a private room on the ICU. His suit was completely off now, the boy covered only by hospital issue blankets, while Stephen had magicked his suit away in favour of scrubs. 

Once he was settled into the huge room, making him look even smaller if that were possible, Stephen and Christine took vigil, monitoring his recovery in every way imaginable and waiting for him to wake. 

“He must have family, Stephen. They must be so worried,” Christine said. “If he’s been treated here before there may be some records, let me run a search. Do we know where he lives?”

“It’s definitely Queens. Mr Rogers, Captain America, he used to call him Queens,” replied Stephen, sombrely.

Christine went off to investigate leaving Stephen alone with the teen. He wasn’t one for bedside manner but he couldn’t help but have an affinity for the young web-slinger. Though their interactions had been brief, he knew him to be a very brave, and ultimately, good person. There didn’t seem to be any agenda with him, a complete contrast to the cynicism the world seemed to be consumed by. 

He had no idea how much time had passed, zoning out to the tune of the steady beeps of Peter’s heart monitor. 

Suddenly, Peter stirred. 

“Mmmmmmmmmppphhhhh” was the only sound he seemed to be able to make, and Stephen responded immediately, with a tenderness even he didn’t know he possessed.

“Peter, you’re OK, you’re at Metro General Hospital, you’re safe. OK?” he said, stroking the boy’s hair with a shaky hand.

Peter’s eyes remained shut, but his head moved from side to side, as if looking for someone. 

“Pete, it’s OK kid, just relax, just sleep now. We’ll get you some stronger pain meds too while we’re at it,” he said, upping the morphine levels on the teen’s drip. “Shhhhh now,” he consoled, as the youngster seemed to settle back into a deeper sleep once more.

Stephen sat in silence watching the steady rise and fall of the teen’s chest and was only interrupted when Christine came in, with another woman, who was tearful and white as a sheet.

“Stephen,” she whispered. “This is May Parker, Peter’s aunt. His next of kin. We found her number on some old records we had when Peter had his tonsils out when he was 12. She came right away.”

Stephen stood up and led May to the seat. “This looks like a lot but it’s not, I promise you,” he said. “It’s just to keep an eye on all his vitals while he recovers from the surgery. He lost a lot of blood but he’s going to be OK.”

“Thank you,” she said, quietly. “I was so worried. I am just happy he’s alive. I fear the worst, after everything, you know?”

He nodded. “I can imagine. Your nephew is a special kid, I’m sure you know that.”

“He is. He’s also an idiot, getting himself into far more danger than I would like, but you know him.”

“Absolutely,” Stephen said. “It’s why I made sure any emergency calls from his suit were redirected to me. He won’t ever help himself, and I’m the nearest person who can keep watch.”

“I appreciate it. Tony always looked out for him. Since he died, Peter’s been a bit lost.”

Stephen could only nod in agreement again. “I’m...sorry I’ve not been more of a physical presence.”

May and Stephen sat together through the night, watching Peter sleep and keeping him calm when he stirred. He was clearly exhausted by life in general, given he never seemed to fully wake when his pain medication began wearing off. 

Shortly after the sun rose, with May asleep in the armchair in the corner, Stephen created a portal to a place he’d not been to for a while, and a world away from the clinical corridors of Metro General.

He walked to the door and knocked gently.

“Hello, sir…” a small girl said, hair ruffled from sleep. 

“Um, hello, miss Stark. You don’t remember me, but-”

“Yes I do, you were here to say goodbye to Daddy,” she said, matter-of-factly. Stephen gulped, taken aback.

“Yes that’s right I was. I’m here to see your mum, is she inside?”

“MUMMY!!” the girl shrieked. “The wizard man is here!”

“Let him in,” a voice said in the distance. “I’ll be just a minute!”

Stephen hovered in the lounge area, looking into the corner where Tony had holographically said his goodbyes.

“Hey Stephen, what brings you here? It’s very early” said Pepper, coming from upstairs with a basket of washing. She looked tired, he thought. Tired and sad. 

“Um, I thought it was important to inform you that Peter Parker is at Metro General right now, if you would like to visit him?”

Pepper’s face gained a new layer of worry. “Peter? What’s wrong? What happened?”

“He was injured while out on his patrols last night, trying to stop a robbery at a jewellers. He was in a bad way but we got to him in time.”

“How did you know to get to him?”

“Well, that was the other reason for my visit. I wanted to apologise for… for interfering with your husband’s technology. After Tony’s passing, I performed some magic on Peter’s suit, so any emergency correspondence would not be ignored.”

Pepper sat down. “Thank you for your foresight and there’s no need to apologise for being so proactive. I’m sure if Tony we’re here he’d be hugging you right now,” she chuckled wistfully. . “Let me get myself and Morgan dressed, and we’ll come back with you, if that’s OK?”

“Of course. I’ll wait outside by the portal.”

Within ten minutes Pepper and Morgan were ready and the trio went back through and directly into the corridor outside Peter’s room.

“I think he’ll be really happy to see you both,” Stephen said.

Peter was still asleep, with May now awake and sipping a coffee at his bedside. May had a stunned look - clearly she’d never seen a portal before - and she stood up, nervously.

“Pepper, Morgan...hi,” she said. “It’s good to see you, although obviously these circumstances aren’t great.”

“No, they’re not,” was all Pepper could muster, taking a seat next to May. As Morgan began to ask the kinds of questions every six year old would, the teen began to wake.

“Msssrrr Stark…” he mumbled, eyes half open and clearly unfocused as he found Stephen’s face.

“No Pete, it’s Doctor Stephen Strange, remember?”

Stephen couldn’t help but feel the ache in his heart as he watched the boy process the information and realise his error, the tears forming in his eyes.

“Pepper and Morgan are here though, and May.”

“S’nice,” he mumbled, no energy to seek out their faces. “They ‘K?”

“We’re all fine, Peter,” May said, taking his hand in hers. ”How do you feel?”

“Hurts,” was all he could muster.

“Petey you can have my bear, he will make you feel better,” said the young girl, coming to the side of the bed and placing her bear in the nook of Peter’s arm.

“Thanks Mmm… sweet.” Peter tried to adjust himself in the bed but hissed in pain as he did so. “Sssssssssshhhhhhh….uuugar.” he said, correcting himself from swearing in front of the child.

“What do you need Peter?” Pepper asked.

Peter hissed through gritted teeth. “Just...hurts.”

“It’s going to for a while, that was quite the wound you got yourself there,” Stephen said. “You’re going to feel weak for a while since you lost a lot of blood. You can recover at the sanctum if you like, instead of here? Hospitals aren’t places to recover, you know?”

Peter seemed to struggle with the idea. “May...she’s a nurse. Home?”

“Peter I’m working long hours at the moment, not to mention my exams coming up. Stephen here is more qualified than I will ever be,” May said. “We discussed this while you were asleep last night.”

“Can look after myself,” he said, eyes closed again and fingers absently fiddling with the threads on his sheet.

“Peter you don’t have to be so alone you know?” Pepper said. “I mean, if the idea of staying at the Sanctum is a bit much, no offence Stephen but it’s not your usual home-”

“That is true,” Stephen said with a smile.

“- and May is very busy right now with her studies, perhaps you could come stay with Morgan and I? Some lakeside air might help speed things up?”

“And we can play games Petey!” Morgan added, with impeccable timing.

Peter mustered a smile. He’d not been to the lake house since the funeral. While he really wanted to be there and feel closer to Tony, as well as get to know Morgan better, he never felt comfortable asking. Now he’d had an offer…

“That’d be nice...I’m tired.” The last two words he’d spoken mentally and accidentally revealed out loud.

Stephen patted his hands on his knees. “Get some rest then kid, we’ll sort it all out. I will sort out the paperwork here and we can get you to the lake house maybe tomorrow. I will be visiting you daily though, make sure you’re healing up well, OK?”

Peter had already fallen back asleep. 

“Thank you Doctor Strange,” May said. “For everything.”

—————

Peter was able to spend a week recuperating at the Lake House, nourished by the surroundings of the Stark family home, comforted by Pepper’s cooking and kindness and by Morgan’s delightful nature, a cheeky inquisitiveness that reminded him so much of Tony. She even screwed her face up in concentration like he did.

As promised Dr Strange visited every day, making sure Peter didn’t overdo it, changing dressings and assessing pain medication. It was the most time he’d spent with the teen, and it didn’t take long before he really felt a bond. There was no agenda with Peter Parker, no ego, no real sense of self, not to mention a brilliant brain. He couldn’t help but think how much The Ancient One would have loved him. Strange probably wasn’t the sort of role model he needed, he realised. Far too arrogant and potentially corrupting. Still, maybe having someone like Peter in his life would help remind him to be a better man.

When the time came to officially discharge Peter from his care, he was actually quite sad. Peter had just said his goodbyes to Pepper and Morgan, with a promise to return soon.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you, Peter,” the doctor said, as the pair walked down the steps of the house and towards the lake.. “The reason I found you in the store was because I had...well… I made Tony a promise. One after he’d died.”

Peter looked at him, confused and emotional. “OK…”

“I vowed to watch out for you. Tony clearly cared a lot about you. He invented time travel to bring you back.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“It was you, always you, kid. I saw it on Titan. You were the key ingredient to the one out of 14.6 million possibilities. You.”

Peter didn’t know what to say, let alone how to process the information.

“So, when he died, I took it upon myself to keep watch. I put some magic on your suit’s AI, diverted the messages to me. That’s how I knew to come find you.”

“Oh wow… thank you. I’m sorry I thought you were Mr Stark.”

“Well you weren’t to know. I had hoped it wouldn’t be needed, but, well…”

“Well thank you anyway. For everything.”

“And, if you ever wanted to spend some time at the Sanctum, you need a place to get away, talk superhero stuff,” he gestured the last part in quote marks. “Maybe even learn some...magic...as you call it?”

“I’d really like that,” Peter said. 

A portal opened, May the other side, sitting on the familiar couch of his apartment with a beaming smile. “Well then, let’s get you home.”


End file.
